


Watchers

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform, Romance, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three interrelated drabbles tracing three people's addictions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watchers

## Watchers

#### by Aouda Fogg

  
Not mine, not ever gonna be . . . but I don't mean to infringe, and I'm not making money, la, la, la!  
  
Originally written for Sentinel Thursday's Challenge #84: Addiction.  


* * *

It had veered into addiction pretty quickly. I had watching him down to a science long before I realized I'd shifted away from something purely scientific. I could admit, if only to myself, how much I enjoyed it; I hadn't been tempted to vocalize it, though. Too big a risk. I felt guilty for a long time, but not anymore. Now I know he's watching me back. Now we watch each other. Now we touch. I love the feel of him under my hands. 

* * *

I'd denied it for a long time, but isn't denial a huge part of addiction? I told myself it was because he was my friend, my partner; I was looking out for him. I repeated those words so many times I lulled myself into believing them. Then came the day I realized I was watching his hands and wishing that instead of dancing in mid-air to emphasize his point, that they were dancing across my skin. Shame colored my watching then, but I didn't stop, despite fearing his disgust. When he did finally catch me, it was because he'd been watching me back. The most vivid memory I have of that night is discovering the feel of his hands was even better than I imagined. 

* * *

It quickly became an addiction. My mum would've said it was female intuition, but really, it was more relentless curiosity to see if I was right. So I watched. I watched for months, through stake outs, lunches, and poker games, quiet conversations in the bullpen, and a couple blazing rows. I'd started to think I'd imagined things when I came around the corner unexpectedly at a barbeque and caught them alone, Blair talking intensely, his hands flying. Jim grabbed one of his hands, kissed the palm and let it go. They grinned at each other. I grinned, too, and slipped back around the corner. 

* * *

End Watchers by Aouda Fogg: aoudafogg@yahoo.com  
Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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